


Plié, Plié, Arabesque

by missmichellebelle



Series: Strawberry Sandwich [4]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Daddies, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:18:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Go make all those other girls jealous. Show them you don’t need classes.”</p><p>Staring up at him, Sophie nods solemnly.</p><p>“I don’t. I’m the bestest dancer in the world,” she says, and Darren nods, just as seriously.</p><p>“You are.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plié, Plié, Arabesque

“Hold my jacket,” Sophie says, holding out the bright blue article of clothing. Darren takes it. “And my backpack.” She drops it on Darren’s lap. “And Ama.” She hesitates, petting at the stuffed llamas fur, and then sets it more gently on her dad’s lap.

“Anything else?” He asks, grinning down at her. She frowns, looking hard in thought, and then takes a couple of steps back.

“Tell me how pretty I am.” She puts her hands on her hips and looks at him expectantly.

“Hmm…” Darren presses his lips together, tilting his head to the side. “I dunno, I might have to see a twirl—”

Sophie twirls, her dance skirt flying up, and then she grins happily at Darren.

“Very beautiful,” Darren agrees, shuffling his daughter’s belongings around until he can set the backpack and jacket on the empty chair beside him. He keeps Ama in his lap. “Come here, princess.” 

She skips back towards him, and he kisses her on her head.

“Go make all those other girls jealous. Show them you don’t need classes.”

Staring up at him, Sophie nods solemnly.

“I don’t. I’m the bestest dancer in the world,” she says, and Darren nods, just as seriously.

“You are.”

“Ladies!” The instructor calls, and little girls hurry across the floor. Sophie turns to go, but Darren catches her tiny arm and spins her back around.

“Papa—” she protests.

“Kiss.” He taps his cheek, and she sighs as if he’s the most insufferable person in the world—it doesn’t matter if she isn’t biologically Chris’s, sometimes her attitudes imitate his perfectly. She props herself up on his knees with her hands, smacks a kiss against his cheek, and then hurries over to where the rest of the girls are lining up.

“She’s precious.”

Darren looks away from the class to a woman sitting a seat away from him.

“Yeah, she takes after her dad.”

The woman laughs, a little too loudly, and Darren has to bite down on his own grin.

“I’ll bet she does,” she says, and Darren wants to roll his eyes. There are subtler ways to flirt, after all, and this woman isn’t even  _trying_. He touches the white-gold band on his left ring finger and wonders if she even noticed it. “I’m Laura. Gregory,” she adds, after a moment. “That’s my daughter, Martha.” She points to an equally blonde little girl near the back of the class.

“Darren Criss,” he reaches over to shake her hand, and he checks her face, but she doesn’t seem to recognize the name. “My daughter is Sophie.” It’ll be good for Sophie to have friends in dance class, and so it doesn’t hurt for Darren to be friendly with the other parents—moms, he should say, because he’s the only dad in the whole room—even if they are a little  _over_  friendly. “Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Gregory.”

“Oh, just Miss,” she’s quick to correct. “And feel free to call me Laura.”

“Laura, then.” He sits back in the chair, shifting his weight—plastic chairs are murder on his ass. “Single mom, huh? That must be tough.”

She waves her hand as if it’s nothing, but Darren is watching Sophie now as the teacher begins to teach them the basic starting positions. She looks back over her shoulder at him, grins large and bright. He makes a turning motion with his finger, and she sticks her tongue out, before she’s looking back to the front of the class.

“—but we’re better off without him.”

Oh, fuck, he hadn’t realized Laura had kept on talking. The only thing he can glimpse from the end of a sentence he caught is that she’s a single mom as result of divorce, which—ouch, harsh. Darren spins his wedding ring around his finger, and can’t imagine what something like that would do to a child as young as Martha most likely is.

“It sounds tough, though.” His eyebrows furrow, concerned. “I’m sorry.”

“We get by,” she assures with a smile. “It happened when Martha was much younger, but I worry sometimes, if not having a positive, male influence in her life might be hindering her.” The look she gives Darren is almost  _predatory_ , and Darren almost wants to start laughing. “But I’m sure you’re familiar with raising a child on your own.”

_Cutting right to the chase, isn’t she?_

“Actually, I’m not.” He lifts up his hand, and his wedding band glints in the bleaching light of the dance studio. Laura can’t hide the disappointment on her face.

“You’re a good dad,” she continues, worrying her fingers in her lap. “To take your daughter to dance class. I’d never have convinced my ex-husband to do something like that.”

Darren does roll his eyes this time, turning back towards the class. The girls are being led across the floor in a move he didn’t catch the name of—he’s shit at the name of ballet forms, but he’s thinking he’ll be an expert soon enough. After all, someone has to help Sophie practice.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Sophie glides with too much energy in her limbs, fighting the urge to just swing her arms around the way she does when they dance at home. There’s a furrow between her brow as she concentrates.

“You sound like you’re an amazing father,” she says with a soft smile. “Your wife is very lucky.”

Darren does laugh then, shaking his head, and turns to look at her.

“Oh, no, I—”

“Sorry!”

Darren turns, just in time for Chris to wince at how loud his voice came out. He sends an apologetic glance in the direction of the class, and then ducks past a line of seated moms as he hurries towards Darren. Darren smiles at him, moving Sophie’s backpack and jacket from the chair so that Chris can sit down. He collapses into the chair as if he’s run the whole way there.

“Sorry, sorry, my meeting with Erica lasted longer than it should have—” He leans in, kissing Darren quickly, before unwrapping his own jacket, “—and traffic, as usual, was murder. Did I miss anything important?”

“Only our daughter becoming the next prima ballerina, you know. Nothing super important.”

Chris whacks him on the arm, and then rolls his eyes.

“Also I made a friend.”

“So surprised,” Chris comments dryly, and Darren tugs on his hand as if silently scolding him, before lacing their fingers together.

“Laura, this is Chris.” Darren leans back in the chair so they can see each other, and Chris, with a polite smile, extends his free hand. Laura looks confused and a little dumbfounded, but shakes Chris’s hand nonetheless. “My husband.”

He watches her face, the way her eyes widen and nearly pop out before she looks incredibly embarrassed.

“Nice to meet you,” she mumbles quietly, and then immediately turns to talk to the mother sitting on her other side. Chris raises a confused eyebrow, and then looks at Darren.

“Did I miss something there?”

Darren grins, leaning closer until their shoulders are pressing together, Sophie’s llama tucked between them.

“Funny story. I’ll tell you later.”

“…she was hitting on you, wasn’t she?” Chris doesn’t look incredibly amused by the fact, and Darren pouts. “You get way too much amusement out of that. How many years later, and flirting is still your greatest entertainment.”

“It’s not the flirting, it’s the fact that I’m  _married_  and have a  _husband_.”

“Mmm.” Chris looks away from him.

“You’re so adorable when you’re jealous.”

Chris snaps a look at him, eyebrows furrowed.

“I am not—”

“Shhh. Let me have this. I always get jealous, it makes me feel better about myself to think that you do, too.” Chris scoffs, but Darren leans in and kisses his cheek. “Besides, I’m wearing  _your_  ring on my finger, and that’s  _our_  daughter out there dancing.”

He sees Chris smile, bringing out the dimple in his cheek.

“If you’re done being cheesy now, you should probably watch  _our_  daughter.” Chris jerks his chin towards the class. “Sophie’s going to want to do arabesques all around the house, and we’re going to have to help her.”

“What the fuck is an arabesque?”

“I have no idea. That’s why we should pay attention.”


End file.
